


Fearless

by sprocket



Category: Fringe (TV), Honor Harrington Series - David Weber
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen, and your psychic treecat too, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 03:11:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13378902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprocket/pseuds/sprocket
Summary: The unexpected fallout from yet another assassination attempt during the Solarian conflict. Set afterMission of Honor/ 1922 PD.





	Fearless

"My Lady?"

Admiral Lady Dame Honor Alexander-Harrington cocked her head. "What is it, Mac?"

MacGuiness gave her no clues. "Detective Dunham is here to see you. She's accompanied by several persons, and asks that they be allowed to meet with you."

"Um." Honor rubbed her nose thoughtfully. Detective Dunham, Landing City PD, had risked her life to foil one of the assassination plots against Honor. The other woman had accepted the accolades of her Queen with outward composure, but through her empathic link to Nimitz, Honor had sensed Dunham’s reservations. When Honor had offered Dunham her personal thanks, she had not expected the civilian would take up the suggestion Dunham could call on Honor in the future. Apparently the rapport Honor had felt with Dunham ran both ways. "Who is with her?"

"Detective Farnsworth, and Farnsworth's treecat Babbage, of course, as well as two men she's identified as Peter and Doctor Walter Bishop," Mac replied promptly. "Their ID matches."

"Well, if Spencer agrees they aren't a security risk—" and Honor knew they weren't, or her senior Armsman would not have let Mac make the suggestion "—let them know I'm ready to see them."

Detective Dunham was the first to step into Honor's spacious office. The tallish woman wore a well-made civilian suit in a dark, conservative cut, her blonde hair braided back in an equally bland style. "Your Grace," she said, with a warm smile, "thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice."

"Ms Dunham," Honor replied, rising to shake her hand, "it's not every day I can repay someone who has, literally, saved my life." Behind Dunham, a shorter woman with dark, curly hair, had one arm looped through the crook of an older man's elbow, the pair flanked by the last of Detective Dunham's contingent. A treecat draped over both Farnsworth's shoulders, ears pricking up as he noticed Nimitz on Honor's left shoulder. Honor dimly noticed the 'cats subtle conversation, but focused most of her attention on her other guests.

Detective Dunham shrugged slightly, a gesture that made light of her heroic actions. Like herself, Honor suspected, Dunham didn't see the lives she had saved that day, but the lives that had already been lost before she had made the nearly impossible shot which had taken out Detective Francis. _What had been left of Detective Francis after the Mesan Alignment's nanotech_ , Honor corrected mentally. "You may remember Detective Astrid Farnsworth, my partner, and her companion Babbage. This is Peter Bishop—" Honor reached out to shake their hands, extending her own empathic senses to sample the swirl of emotions from her guests "—and his father, Doctor Walter Bishop."

Detective Farnsworth's emotions were a beacon of serenity, but behind the younger Bishop's genial greetings lurked a well-masked swirl of trepidation. And the older Bishop—

"It's actually Walter who wanted to meet with you," Dunham said, bringing her hands together in a nervous gesture.

"I see," Honor replied, as she fixed her gaze on the fidgety older man, who seemed torn between good manners and avoiding her gaze. His gray hair suggested he was a second- or even first-generation prolong recipient, but his outer eccentricities, such as his fussy, slightly mismatched formal wear, were nearly eclipsed by the seething roar of his shattered emotions. Fear and darker emotions roared there, but the older man also projected determination, stronger than his fear. "I see," she said again, gently, and now Walter Bishop's eyes rose to meet hers.

"Before we get started, any refreshments?" Honor asked.

They all shook their heads, as they settled in the office's comfortable conversation circle, except for Dr. Bishop, who said, in a soft burr alien to Manticore’s twin suns, "Perhaps hot cocoa — Peter, you loved your mother's cocoa, when you were a boy—"

The younger Bishop sighed slightly as Detective Dunham intervened. "Walter," she said almost gently, a hint of steel in her tone. Doctor Bishop broke off with a new twist in his emotions.

"No, of course not, my dear. No more delays!" He sat carefully on one of the couches, with Farnsworth's help, as his son and the detective took nearby seats. Surprisingly, the treecat poured off Farnsworth in a liquid motion, settling in Walter's lap with a calming, rumbling purr as Walter stroked his fur.

"When my son was a boy, he became... very ill," Walter began. "Very ill," he repeated softly, the words almost lost in that outKingdom accent. "In my research for a cure, I did many things which I believed would be forgiven, whose consequences would be _justified_ , if only I could save Peter." At this, Detective Dunham looked away, briefly, as if lost in some memory of her own. Without taking his eyes off his father, Peter reached out to wordlessly entwine his fingers with hers. "And in doing so I experimented with the most extreme applications of tools humanity wisely has used in moderation: genetic engineering... and nanotechnology."

Honor shivered. "Nanotechnology?" she asked, as neutrally as possible. Was this man saying...

"I am not... what I was," Walter continued, his words stumbling, becoming choppy, over-enunciated. "I removed parts of my brain when I saw what sort of man I was becoming. But when Olivia told me of the assassin's actions, and Babbage shared with Astro-"

"—Astrid—" the younger woman murmured, with a flash of resigned irritation.

"—the man's _emotional_ state—" Walter's voice rose slightly, over Farnsworth's correction, "—I remembered the experiments I had performed in the nineteenth century Ante Diaspora. I remembered the terrible things we did, Belly and I, the secret devices I thought I had hidden where they could not be found. And I remembered—" his trembling fingers dipped into his coat pocket. Honor could feel Simon Hawke stiffen behind her as he fumbled in his pocket, but neither treecat moved from their perches. "—an antidote, a sort of vaccination that I created against the worst effects." The old man separated two very conventional tubes of blood from the crumpled papers and half-empty snack packages that also cluttered those pockets. "These are samples from inoculated test subjects, subjects who proved to be immune to the effects of this nanotechnology. Perhaps—" his voice broke "—if Manticoran scientists can recreate the vaccine, perhaps it is a sign that God has forgiven me for my sins."

Honor looked away from Walter’s pleading gaze, weighing his story, and his offer, and studied the reactions of Dunham’s party to buy a moment, reaching out with her empathic senses. Detective Farnsworth’s attitude of concern matched a twist of dismay. The young Bishop’s posture was staged to display indifference, a mask that concealed anger and protectiveness. Looking at Bishop’s hand, still holding Dunham’s, she could guess which emotion went where, she thought, with a wry twist. Dunham herself was undaunted by the bombshell she had brought to Honor, her earlier trepidation apparently set aside. It was the professionalism Honor looked for in her best officers. In her experience, that professionalism was so often paired with fierce competence that it made Honor’s next steps obvious. 

“Something so significant to the Kingdom’s security can’t be pursued as a private matter,” Honor said, and held up a hand as she saw protests spring to Walter and Dunham’s lips. “Which means I’ll make a few introductions.” 

“We — I — had hoped this could be handled quietly, Your Grace,” Dunham said. “It’s why I came to you, instead of going through channels.” 

It could have been flattery, but Honor could sense Dunham’s understated confidence in _her_. It was, she realized, a confidence that flowed from the other woman’s understanding on their shared values: taking responsibility and doing one’s duty, no matter the personal cost. Given Walter’s dark hints of less-than-wholesome activities, she had to wonder how the detective had become aware of Walter’s history with Mesa’s nanotech program. “I understand,” Honor said sympathetically. “I’ll do everything I can to protect your privacy.” Dunham considered this, then nodded reluctantly. 

“Well,” Honor said, surveying Dunham’s team. “Let’s be about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Honorverse didn’t just jump the shark, it jumped the first shark, then jumped an entire sequence of increasingly powered-up and difficult to jump sharks that suspiciously resemble events of the 19th and 20th centuries. I blame late nights and fandom for the wild “Honor and Olivia would get on like a house on fire / what if Walter were a Mesan scientist” seed, and raspberryhunter for beta-editing this into an acceptable public showing. Any remaining mistakes are mine.


End file.
